Chewing on Churrasco

On our final day in Sao Paolo, our host took us to Churrascaria Gramado Grill, outside the city near the village of Embu das Artes. On a road chock full of churrascaria, this particular establishment was distinguished by the enormous yerba mate cup on the roof. If you are a gaucho, charcoal-grilled beef and yerba mate are irresistable lures.

Upon being seated, we were greeted by a man hefting an enormous platter of beer bottles and mixed drinks. Like a dessert cart, the drink platter is a menu: you pick your drink from the selection, and a fresh one is brought to your table. An added benefit of the drink platter is that the non-portuguese-speaking diner can easily order a beverage without saying a word. I ordered a passion fruit caipirinha; full of gelatinous passion fruit seeds, this drink resembled a boozy pearl ice tea. Ice-cold beer is also a popular accompaniment, particularly "chope"--the local style of draft pilsener.

Time to visit the salad buffet. It is understood that the salad buffet is merely for visual consumption--the burden of veggies in the tummy hinders the intake of grilled meats. Nevertheless, it was educational to examine what was on the buffet. In addition to leafy salads, there were some interesting items: hard-boiled quail eggs, fried pork rinds, and something involving bacalao (salt cod).

Gramado Grill also offered a separate buffet of traditional Brazilian dishes: a whole roasted piglet (leitao), feijoada, farofa (which reminds me of fried rice), whole fish... I could have lingered much longer over the buffet table, but it was time to head back--the meat was coming!

The first meat to appear was the iconic picanha, a cut of beef easily recognized by the curl of fat on the outer edge. I think picanha is another form of sirloin. The waiters visited each table, carrying the picanha on a long skewer with a drip plate. Wielding a very large knife, the waiter sliced off some beef; every table setting included a small pair of tongs, and diners are expected to grab the meat before it falls with a splat onto the table. As far as I could tell, the picanha had been prepared in a most minimal way: nothing more than sprinkled with salt and grilled over an open flame. Delicious.

The procession of beef continued; among other cuts of meat (I lost track after a while), the waiters appeared with flank steak and cupim, a roasted beef hump (the waiter indicated the back of his own neck). Cupim is very tender, and falls apart at the touch of a fork. Do American cattle have a cupim?

Churrrascaria doesn't restrict itself to beef. The waiters brought lamb chops and ribs, as well as chicken. A curious-looking skewer turned out to be chicken hearts.

After a while, our meat feast started to slow. We politely declined the waiters and their skewers. I suppose there are diners who welcome the dessert cart at the conclusion of a churrasco pig-out session, but everybody in our party decisively dismissed the cakes and flans. I settled insead for a bit of queijo fresco, guava jelly, and an espresso.

What a meal. I look forward to trying more churrascaria in the states!